Mystic Grits is a story about a southern girl's personal evolution and growth into a conscious awakening at midlife -presented as a work in "meta-fiction," the collision of two literary genres -autobiography sparked with metaphysical spirituality -or, said another way, the "Dance of the Dissident Daughter" meets "Star Trek, the Next Frontier."

Follow a young girl named Precious, the namesake of a wise, Carolina tobacco-farming grandmother, whom she calls Maw Maw, the magical influence in the girl's early life. Maw Maw shows up posthumously as an "image" during a retreat in the mountains and as a consistent voice and guide in her journals, the first mentor in her journey beyond the kitchen table wisdom and family traditions which shaped her beliefs.

Struggling with where to start the story of her life's journey, the author writes, "I climbed the ladder to my attic to collect dust-covered journals and diaries among the luggage, my kid's outgrown clothes and that vast collection of Beanie Babies I thought would make me rich one day. I wanted to see if there was a story worth reading in the diary pages written as I explored the depths of my soul during life transitions and spirit-filled growth spurts." Pulling from these journals just a few of the cosmic events and deeper inquiries, she has found a novel way to transform truly personal reflections into a sampling of anecdotal stories about her inner journey beyond her southern traditions and values.

More than just an entertaining story, the book is a recollection of actual moments from the author's life. Young Precious grows into a spirited woman who, while remaining true to her deep-rooted faith, is also awakened to a more-expansive view of how "to live out loud" and fully embrace her many gifts. So, Mystic Grits is ultimately a story about a conscious awakening. Playing with the Ouija Board Game at her 10th birthday party, Precious is told that she will become a "T-E-A-C-H-E-R," to which she replies, "Yuck, that's not what I want to be, I want to be an airline stewardess and see the whole wide world." Continuing to resist even more obvious messages, she finally learns to surrender, trusting divine guidance to show up just in time for the most critical decisions of her life. These decisions are typical of many who are reflecting on their quest for what's next, asking the big life questions about who they will marry, the children they might have, how to face daily career challenges, and how to support a friend who faces mortality. Her quests leave her restless as she begins to capture her journey-wrestling with this leap of faith she will ultimately take to become a writer!

This "southern girl's journey to wisdom," is divided into four books that illustrate a solid grounding in faith and then an expansion of this faith in herself, in humanity, and in the Divine. Captured in the four section titles - Foundations, Leaps, Lessons, and Mysteries--each set of reflections builds on the revelation that there is more to this life than what we know. The conversations with her Maw Maw Precious give the younger Precious an easier way to talk to God through prayer. Growing in trust, she has a glimpse of a spaceship at Hanging Rock State Park, communes with angels and other guides in her journals and meditations, and has too many coincidences to be just that. Through these magical experiences, Mitsch discovers the marvelous potential that is available to those willing to envision a larger experience of this life and our place in the Universe.

The author ends the book with her views on writing as an act of faith: "I hear a constant drumming to help `awaken the torchbearers' who will lead us to a new place in our human evolution."

"You are being asked to leverage the gems from your past and consciously author a new chapter in our collective journey. By holding this story you are being charged with going forward to share your own light. So now as this story ends, a new story begins. Yours."

Excerpt:

Prologue
January 24th, 2008

I came into my office today and found this note.

“To put in my small 2 cents – I understand your working on the business book and getting that to the market as soon as possible, from a competitive standpoint that more than makes sense. But deep, deep in my heart, I hope you do not put your Grits on the back burner. You have had this in your heart for soooo long and now that the memories and thoughts are coming back to life to be shared with people like me, please don’t stop. GRITS! Many of us are waiting.

Don’t stop. Don’t Stop. Don’t Stop!”
Bev.

Bev is the soft–spoken executive assistant who come to NC two years earlier. She had thankfully landed in the role of managing my brain and my calendar in our executive coaching company. As I read her note I dropped into my cushy executive chair and grabbed my chest with my right hand to keep my heart from falling out.

She was right. Mystic GRITS was calling to me with a force I could no longer ignore. I had tried writing this book for a decade. Each time I sat to write I thought, ‘I will just wait and come out of this spiritual closet after my parents are gone, I am an old woman, and nobody in my home town cares too much about what I might say.”

CHAPTER FIVE
Foundations of Faith - Heaven
July 31, 1965
Dear Diary,
I stayed on the tobacco farm last night with Maw Maw Precious. I had the most colorful dream. One minute I was in my bed. The next I was in a place I had never been, at least that I can remember.

The place was beautiful. There were big flowers. Not like the snowballs and lilies in Maw Maw’s garden - much bigger. I could smell things in my dream, too. The whole place smelled like roses and honeysuckle. I wanted to take a really deep breath, and just hold it forever.

I woke up, but closed my eyes as tight as I could so I could go back...

At ten years old I didn’t have words to describe what I saw in the dream. I’m not sure I do now. It seemed that I was saying my prayers one minute and in an instant I was in an otherworldly place. This place was home to beautiful vistas – lush green landscapes with fields of fragrant flowers, surreal to see against this landscape which felt both distant and close. A street lead to a magnificent gate, paved with granulated gemstones, pearlescent in appearance, and these stones drew energy from each step I took – or I was deriving energy from them. They sparkled and rippled under my feet. I stood in front of the gate. It was so tall I could barely see the top which was dotted with large baseball sized pearls - and stones that captured prisms, shooting rainbows of light in every direction.
As I began telling Maw Maw Precious about my dream over breakfast, she interrupted me gently, touching my hand like she always did before she said something important. She looked into my eyes in a way that made me feel like she saw me from the inside out. She completed the story – every detail of what I had seen, as if she had been there. I had goose bumps.

“I believe this is heaven,” she said, “and I have seen it many times. I think this place is our true home - the home for our souls.”